


Between You and Me

by bretelgeuse



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bretelgeuse/pseuds/bretelgeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew T’Challa wouldn’t push; he knew T’Challa wasn’t that kind of man; he knew all he had to do was say 'no' and T'Challa would drop the subject like it was nothing. But, the thing was, Sam wondered if he should be pushing himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between You and Me

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. He fell. I watched. You knew that already.”

“I don’t want to know about his death,” T’Challa’s lips brushed over the bare, dark skin of Sam’s hip with each word. “I want to know about his life.”

His life?

"Jesus." Sam sighed, raising a hand up to cover his face. T’Challa really didn’t know how tall of an order that was. There were things Sam locked away, and then there was this. “I don’t know if I can.”

The bed squeaked. T’Challa moved. The warm press of lips on Sam’s hip was gone.

“I won’t push you, Samuel.”

Again, Sam sighed. He knew T’Challa wouldn’t push; he knew T’Challa wasn’t that kind of man; he knew all he had to do was say 'no' and T'Challa would drop the subject like it was nothing. But, the thing was, Sam wondered if he should be pushing himself.

Sometimes it was necessary.

Sometimes it was just a pain in his ass.

For the third and final time (God willing), Sam sighed. 

“You gotta be a little more specific.” he murmured, dropping the hand away from his face and peering down to meet T’Challa’s dark gaze. “His life is a pretty big time span to cover.”

Smiling, T’Challa lent down till his lips found Sam’s hip once again.

_“Come on Sammy, where’re you taking me?”_

_Sam tried not to grin as they strode down the street, moving seamlessly around corners, past buildings, led by old memories and street lights. “Told you already, man. I’m taking you dancing.”_

_Riley sighed. “You’re vague as shit, you know that? It’s mean. It is_ so _This dancing better not just be an excuse to grind on all this.”_

_“Dude.” Sam barked a laugh, bumping his shoulder against Riley’s. Riley grinned back. ” Are you seriously going to spend our entire first date complaining? That how this is gonna be?”_

_"That's how it's gonna be."_

T’Challa laced their fingers together.

“Dancing.” T'Challa began to kiss his way up Sam’s abdomen. Sam shivered. “Was he any good?”

Sam snorted. “He was white.”

That brought a surprised laugh out of T’Challa. “Touché.”

_“I told you this was a bad idea.” Riley muttered, sinking even lower in his seat. Sam almost didn’t hear him over the jazz music blaring in the background, mixed with the chatter of patrons who were clearly having a hell of a better time than them._

They _were actually dancing._

_“Thirty minutes to get here and not_ once _did you say that._

_Riley gasped. Sam rolled his eyes at how fucking dramatic it was._

_“Ri. Come on. Please? Can we just dance?”_

_Riley huffed, taking a quick swig of his drink. Whatever he mumbled was lost into the glass and the vibrating energy of the club around them._

_“I’m gonna regret this.”_

_Sam grinned. “Hell yeah.”_

_They both pretended Riley wasn’t smiling just as much when Sam dragged him onto the dance floor._

“I am not overly familiar with jazz.”

Sam whistled, his hand stroking up T'Challa's spine to cup the nap of his neck. “Man. You’re missing out.”

“Last time you said that you made me watch-”

“-Okay, yeah, shut up. I got rad movie tastes and you know it.”

T’Challa wormed his way up Sam’s body, head tucking under Sam’s chin seamlessly. “Whatever you say, Samuel.”

_“This ain’t so bad, huh?” Sam turned his head a fraction, though it only served to press his cheek firmer against Riley's hair. Not that Sam was complaining._ At all. 

_Riley just mumbled a “Could be worse.” right into Sam’s neck, pulling him even closer. Which was a feat, given that Sam could basically feel the other man's pulse as it was. But somehow Riley managed, and if Sam thought he was in heaven before, he was pretty fucking gone every time Riley’s hot breath ghosted over his skin._

_Sam closed his eyes, neck craning down till his lips could rest against Riley’s cheek._

_Fucking. Heaven._

_“Hey, Sammy?”_

_There was a beat of silence that almost worried Sam, until Riley finally spoke again. Sam rolled his eyes._

_“Told you I was a good dancer.”_

Sam had absolutely no idea how T’Challa managed to cover so much distance in so short a time. They’d started with T’Challa peppering Sam’s hip in gentle kisses, now the man was full on _straddling him_ and just laying there on top of him, humming contently.

It was nice.

It was really fucking nice.

“You have no idea how hard I’m resisting a cat joke right now.”

“Oh I think I do, Samuel.”

"Bastard."

_They were both grinning as they stepped through the club doors and out into the street, Riley bouncing beside him like an excited puppy_

_Sam was thinking Golden Retriever._

_“Dude, I’m offering you anything at all and you’re choosing_ pizza.”

 _An arm roped around Sam’s waist and his heart practically soared_.

_“Sammy, there is never an excuse to not be eating pizza. That is the number one rule to live by.”_

_Sam snorted, his own arm gingerly rising and resting over Riley’s shoulders. “Sounds like a rule I’m never gonna live by, man. What if-”_

T’Challa tsked. “Hardly romantic, Samuel.”

Sam’s hands went up in defeat and landed on T’Challa’s lower back, fingers linking together.

“Never an excuse not to have pizza, man. I know how to treat a guy right. Now come on, you’re squashing me.”

Combining their efforts, they managed to roll over till they were both on their sides, facing each other, noses pressed together. However, there was no unwrapping T’Challa’s leg from around Sam’s waist. That was just the cross he'd have to bear.

“Seriously, you’d be surprised.” Sam hitched a shoulder, T’Challa’s eyes watching before they found Sam’s gaze again. Was this man ever not always alert and ready to kick some ass? “Pizza can be pretty damn romantic.”

T’Challa raised an eyebrow. “Did you pretend to be newlyweds for a free meal?”

“...Well shit, we should’ve.”

“I might have.” T’Challa smirked.

They both knew that wasn’t true.

_“Ri, that’s vandalism.” Sam shot the blonde a glare, shifting in his seat just a bit more to block the little criminal from anyone’s view._

_Riley had the audacity to be beaming. “There. Done.”_

_Sam turned in his seat, looking at the wall and “Oh my fucking God. Really?”_

“That. That is cheesy.” T’Challa grinned so widely, his face glowing. “He did not actually carve your names on the wall. You are lying.”

“Put a little heart around it and everything.”

“Samuel.”

“Hey, scold his ass for it. I was against the whole thing.”

“You didn’t stop him. You were an accomplice.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Keep it up, kitten. See if I tell you the rest of the story.”

_“I had a good time with your law breaking ass.” Sam chuckled, leaning back against a metal railing, hands fishing in his pockets. Riley was too feet too far away from him._

_“Didn’t see you actually stopping me, Sammy.”_

_“Like you would have let me.”_

_Riley grinned the grin that was going to kill Sam one of these days. “Might let you do other stuff.”_

_This man was officially gonna be the death of him. Sam’s heart pounded in his chest as Riley stepped closer. “Was that supposed to be smooth?” he asked. “Because that was so not smooth.”_

_“Come on, Sammy. I’m trying here. You tried all night. My turn. Gimme a shot.”_

_Okay._

_Sam could give him a shot._

_He reached out for Riley, tugging him close by the shirt till their chests bumped together._

“And then you asked yourself upstairs.” T’Challa concluded, eyes fluttering shut as Sam stroked a thumb over his cheekbone.

This man’s face ought to be illegal, Sam thought.

“Nope.”

“Do not lie to me, Samuel.”

“Seriously, man. We didn’t have sex that night.”

T’Challa opened his eyes.

“Dude, not everyone’s as eager to get into bed as you are. Now come on. Your turn.”

T’Challa frowned, brow creasing. “My turn?”

“Yeah.” Sam tilted his head enough to press his lips to T’Challa nose. “Tell me about Ororo.”


End file.
